


I'll Be Seeing You

by DizzyDrea



Series: A Timeless Romance [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, First Time, Marvel Universe Big Bang 2015, Romance, Time Travel, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 20:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5219585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the fall of SHIELD, Maria Hill is using all the resources at her disposal to clean up the mess HYDRA left. But on a mission in Budapest, she encounters a device that does the seemingly impossible: it sends her back in time to 1945. Getting back to 2014 is the easy part. The hard part? Not falling in love with Captain America.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Seeing You

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story with a simple idea: how would things be different if Maria met Steve before the events of Captain America: The First Avenger. I never did quite get to that part, but the story was fun to write anyway. Many thanks must go to my beta [swingandswirl](http://swingandswirl.livejournal.com/) for making time in her busy schedule to fangirl all over the story (and point out a few glaring errors). Thanks to her efforts, this story is better than it would have been without her help. Thanks also must go to [BlackHairedDemon](http://blackhaireddemon.tumblr.com/) for the fantastic art that accompanies this story. I am in love with the film noir vibe and am ever so grateful that she chose my story to do art for.
> 
> One tiny note: there's ein bisschen (a little bit) of German in the story. If you hover your mouse over the phrases, you'll see the translation pop up in a text box.
> 
> This story begins post-Captain America:The Winter Soldier, and the parts that take place in 1945 take place during Captain America:The First Avenger.
> 
> Disclaimer: Captain America and all its particulars are the property of Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios, and a lot of other people who aren’t me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

Maria Hill stands at the back of the room, watching the briefing unfold. She doesn't have to be here; she knows the mission parameters inside-out, having helped write them over the past two weeks. But, as mission leader, Captain America had asked her to be in the room as he presented the mission to the Strike Team. 

They've pulled together a pretty impressive team of mercenaries and former SHIELD personnel under the auspices of Stark Industries' Security arm, so she's not worried about success or failure. Still, it's the first major operation they'll be fielding since they brought down Pierce and HYDRA, so she doesn't blame Steve for wanting to get it right.

For a brief second, he catches her eyes, and she can feel herself respond to the intensity in his stare. Then, the moment is gone and he's back to the briefing without missing a beat.

He's been doing that a lot lately, ever since he returned from his first attempts to find Barnes. She'd noticed his looks even before that; the way his eyes had drifted to her whenever they were in the same space during the Chitauri Invasion and later, as they planned to take down SHIELD; the way he looked like there was something he wanted to say, but he'd held back for some reason she couldn't fathom.

The haunted look behind his eyes, as if he were remembering someone who wasn't there anymore.

That one, at least, is easy to figure out. Just about everyone he knew is gone now, with very few exceptions. He's a relic of a bygone era, and he appears to know it. Oh, he's making an attempt to understand the time he finds himself in, trying to integrate himself into a culture he no longer recognizes, and she'd give him full marks for doing so if he didn't still seem so lost.

But at least here, preparing for a mission, planning, working through contingencies and back-up plans, he appears to be where he belongs. Though she has to admit it must sting in a way nothing has since just after Project Rebirth: being a tool that's put on a shelf until needed.

"Everything okay, Ms. Hill?"

Maria startles, corralling her wandering thoughts as she realizes that the briefing is over—has likely been over for several minutes—and Steve's standing in front of her with a concerned expression on his face.

"Captain," she says, trying to recover her usual stoic façade. "Sorry. I was just going over some things in my head. Didn't mean to tune you out."

Steve gives that half-smile he's so famous for. "No problem. It's not like you haven't heard this all a dozen times before." He pauses, looking intently at her. "You ready for this?"

"Of course," she says, frowning at the intent look he's giving her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

It's not a complicated mission; a facility on the outskirts of Budapest is a suspected cover for an unknown group. Stark Security has received reports of medical experiments and other atrocities, but no information on who's running the place or what their end-game is. It's suspicious in the extreme, given the resurgence of HYDRA and that this particular facility used to be one of theirs, but rather than hit the place hard with a full tactical team, they've opted for a surgical strike with a handful of operatives. They're hoping they'll catch whoever it is by surprise, because they want the facility intact and as many prisoners as they can manage.

"No reason," he says, shrugging, but she senses there's more to it than that.

"Wheels up at 0700 tomorrow?" she asks, when it becomes clear he's not going to say anything else.

"Affirmative," he says with a firm nod.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow morning," she says. 

She nods at him, then turns and exits the briefing room. She's got a mountain of paperwork to go through before the end of the day, because the day-to-day management of Stark Security doesn't stop just because Maria Hill is going on a mission.

It still feels like she's missing something, like there's something else going on here that she's just not grasping, but she shrugs it off. This mission is going to be complicated enough without borrowing trouble. 

~o~

Their staging area is—against all logic and reason—in a cemetery. There are several secret entrances to the hidden bunker beneath the sanatorium, but the only one currently accessible is the one disguised as a mausoleum in a small cemetery outside town. Maria has no idea if this was ever someone's final resting place, and God help her, she doesn't really want to know. The creep factor is enough without the real possibility that there's a dead body missing its grave.

They don't have much in the way of solid intel on this place, only a few sketchy drawings of the layout and some vague estimates of how many scientists and security personnel they can expect. They've gone into operations with less, but somehow this time she has a bad feeling about it. Too late for that, now, though, so she pushes aside her uneasiness and focuses on the job at hand.

They split the team up into smaller groups, each one tasked to investigate a different section of the facility and neutralize any resistance they may encounter. As they navigate the long, central corridor, teams peel off, until they reach the final junction. Steve and Maria share a long look, and then she turns right with her backup while Steve and his team go left.

This deep into the facility they're encountering little to no resistance. It's got Maria on edge, but none of that shows thanks to years of training. Still, they communicate using hand signals and head movements; no need to give their enemy a heads up on their location by shouting at each other.

The team splits up further as they move along this last corridor. Each of the three of them take a door, check inside and move along. This sweep is more about finding out what's in the rooms than doing any serious investigating. So far, they've found a whole lot of nothing. She hopes Steve's having more luck, but she's not holding her breath.

There's one last door on her left, and Maria pushes it open only to stop short at the sight that greets her: a lone scientist with some sort of device on the table in front of him. The guy looks up from whatever it is he's been working on, his startled expression matched by the one Maria is wearing. Every other room on this corridor had been empty, so to say she's surprised to find someone behind this door is an understatement.

She levels her gun at him without missing a beat. "Hands where I can see them."

He's frozen mid-motion, his hand reaching for the device as they stare at each other across the table. For one short second, Maria thinks he'll step back and let her take him alive, but then the expression on his face changes and his hand reaches for the device.

At the same instant he connects with it, Maria fires twice, hitting him square in the chest, sending him tumbling to the floor, but not before he's activated the device. Maria rushes around the table, checking for a pulse and finding none—not that she'd expected to; she was trained to hit center mass—before her attention diverts to the device on the table.

It's made up of three concentric circles surrounding what looks like a crystal of some sort, anchored to a bracket that's connected to a base made of the same metal. The whole thing looks like a globe, except for the part where the rings are spinning now, and the stone in the center appears to be glowing more brightly with each passing second.

Maria knows she has seconds—if not less—to get out of the room before whatever it is goes off, but before she gets even two steps to the door, a bright white light envelopes her, knocking her to her knees.

~o~

When she comes back to herself, Maria's on her hands and knees. Nausea rises up within her, so she takes a few deep, calming breaths, not moving until she's certain breakfast isn't going to reappear. Finally, she turns, sitting down with her arms braced on her knees. Her eyes scan the room, but nothing's changed.

Then her eyes skip over the spot on the floor where a dead scientist should be. Except, there's no dead scientist. She scrambles to her feet, turning in a circle as she scans the room again, but it's not like the room was all that big to begin with; more an over-glorified closet than a real lab. Nothing else is different that she can see, except of course for the device sitting in the middle of the table. 

It's stopped glowing, and Maria feels an intense sense of foreboding wash over her. Whatever it was, it's dormant now. 

She's reluctant to touch the thing, but she also knows she won't figure out what it is and what it does—or did—by staying put. There's a canvas bag in the corner, probably left over from whoever used this room last. She scoops it up and drops the device inside, closing the flap and settling the strap over her shoulder. 

She unholsters her gun and pulls the door open just a crack. The corridor outside is just as dark as it was when she got here, but she can't hear the rest of her team. She tries the radio, but gets nothing but static in reply.

At this point, she knows she has two choices: stay put and hope one of the strike team notices her missing and comes looking for her, or head out and hope she runs into them—without getting shot. Maria's never played the damsel in distress before, and she decides she's not going to start today.

She slips quietly out the door and down the corridor, her head on a swivel as she listens for any sounds that might tell her where her team is. When she reaches the end of the corridor, she pokes her head around, just for a second, to see if there's anyone there. It's just as deserted as the corridor she just came from, but as she rounds the corner, she runs straight into a man in a dark uniform.

For just a second, she thinks she's found part of the strike team, and her heart leaps. She hadn't realized just how jumpy wandering around in a mostly-deserted research facility had been. Then she looks up into the surprised face of the man before her. He's no one she recognizes, and when she takes a step back, she realizes that his clothes are all wrong.

"What the—?"

Quick as a snake, the man's hand shoots out and grabs her by the bicep, just before she's able to back away. He pulls her in close, his eyes searching her face as he relieves her of her gun. This close her vision is full of pale skin and piercing blue eyes, and a frisson of fear races through her before she can quell it.

HYDRA! His uniform has the symbol for HYDRA, which confirms the planning team's suspicions. But the uniform is all wrong. Instead of a more modern cut, this guy looks like he just stepped out of a Newsreel from World War II, but that's impossible. It's 2014, not 1945. 

And yet, she can hardly deny that the man before her is wearing the uniform of a Nazi officer, complete with the red octopus insignia of HYDRA.

"Wer bist du?" he asks her, his eyebrows beetling.

"I don't—"

"Was machts du heir?" he tries again.

The officer shakes her a little when she doesn't reply, but there's nothing she can do. Maria doesn't speak it, but she can recognize German when she hears it. She lifts her chin, staring the man down. She knows he's not going to just let her go, but she needs to keep it together until she can figure out what's going on here.

"You are American, yes?" he asks at last, his tenor voice lilting with a soft German accent.

She doesn't answer, but she thinks her very presence here is answer enough.

"Well, Freulein," he says. "I think we shall take a little trip. Perhaps we will find out who you really are."

She's not sure how he plans to do that, but she's given no more time to contemplate that as she's practically dragged back through the corridors she'd passed through on her way in, presumably headed for the same entrance the strike team used to access this facility—god, had it really only been an hour ago?

They emerge into the twilight of pre-dawn, which tells Maria that, whatever's going on here, the timing's the same. The strike team had entered the facility in the small hours of the morning, hoping to catch whoever it is running the place at an hour when they'd be less alert. 

She's shoved none-too-gently into the back of a waiting car—a very 1940s-looking car—and a blindfold is quickly tied around her eyes, leaving her unable to see where they're going. Not that it would matter much, because she's fairly certain she wouldn't recognize where she's at or where they're headed anyway.

It doesn't take them long to arrive at their destination, so she figures they're still near Budapest, but that doesn't give her much to go on. She can't remember if there are any reported bases of operation for any known terrorist groups in Hungary, much less the Budapest area, and even if there were, she has no idea where the rest of her team is and how to contact them so they can come rescue her.

She's pulled from the car and urged into a building, twisting and turning down corridors that all sound the same until she's shoved inside a room and the door closes behind her. 

She rips off the blindfold—they hadn't even secured her wrists, so they must be confident she can't get out—and looks around her new prison. It's supply closet, but it's pretty much empty save a few items on the shelves, none of which are going to help her get out of her new prison.

She drops the bag on the floor and does a thorough search of the room, but as she's suspected, it's empty of anything useful. Even the air vents are too small for her to crawl through and, not knowing the layout of the facility, she's reluctant to try. Clint Barton she is most definitely not.

She figures they'll have to come back eventually to interrogate her, so she leans against one of the shelving units, facing the door, to wait for her captors. She's not sure what she'll do when they get there, but she's willing to wing it if it'll get her out alive.

~o~

Time passes, what feels like hours but in reality is only a little over thirty minutes, when Maria hears the distinct sound of gunfire and shouting. She pushes off the shelves behind her and moves to the door, once again trying the knob. It's still locked, but she can hear boots on the concrete beyond the door and more shouting.

She wants to pound on the door until someone opens up, but if it's another German soldier, she isn't sure what would happen. The choice is taken from her when the door bursts open, a familiar face peering in at her. 

"Steve!" Maria exclaims before she can stop herself.

Steve frowns at her. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

"I'm—" Whatever she was about to say is short circuited when she gets a good look at the man before her. It's Captain Steve Rogers, alright, but the uniform's off and the helmet is, well, a helmet. The alarm bells that had been softly dinging in her mind go off like an air raid siren.

"Listen, we need to get you out of here," he says, not waiting for her to get it together. "Can you walk?"

She shakes her head, trying to get her bearings back. "Yes, I'm fine."

She grabs her bag from the floor, slinging it over her shoulder as she follows him out of the room. Lying in a bloody heap beside the open door is another Nazi—presumably her captor's driver—with her gun tucked into his pants. She reaches down and plucks it up, checking to make sure the clip is still loaded. When she looks up, Steve's got his eyebrow raised, watching her expertly handle the gun. 

"Ready?" he asks.

She nods. "Ready."

They make their way through the facility, and Maria watches as Steve handles most of the resistance they encounter. A few well-placed blows from his shield and the next man is down, without ever having to fire the .45 at his hip. She holsters her own gun and follows suit, using her size and speed to her advantage. It's more for practicality than anything else; she has a limited supply of ammunition—the idiot that took her prisoner never did a pat-down search, so she's still got all her spare clips, plus he never even looked inside the bag, which is why she's still got that, too—and no desire to spend it all in one place when a punch will do.

Besides, nothing beats taking your frustrations out on a Nazi or three.

They finally reach the front gates of the compound, both HYDRA and the Howling Commandos—and she'll freak out about that later, she's sure—pouring out of the buildings in a mad dash for safety. It seems everyone knows what's coming next.

It takes them another hour to round up the last of the HYDRA goons that had scattered into the forest. Maria sticks pretty close to Steve, helping guard the prisoners and walk them back to the compound. She gets some curious looks from some of the Commandos, but none of them questions what she's doing there, her strange clothes or why she's got a gun. Maria's relieved by that; she can't really explain what's going on to herself, so explaining it to these men is beyond her at the moment.

Finally, the compound is secure and the prisoners loaded into trucks. Several of the Commandos take satchels back inside the buildings, setting the explosives that'll level this place and render it useless to HYDRA. 

Maria finds herself in the back of a truck, sitting beside Steve and several of the Commandos. They're dirty and bloodied, but their spirits are high. She remembers the stories she's heard about these men, but at the moment, she can't reconcile the men in the truck with those legends. Timothy "Dum Dum" Dugan. Jim Morita. James Montgomery Falsworth. Gabe Jones. And Sergeant Barnes—Bucky—sitting at Steve's other shoulder, appearing unconcerned even as Maria can see the alertness in every muscle and bone.

"Can I ask you what you were doing in a secret HYDRA facility in Hungary, ma'am?"

The question catches her off-guard, though it probably shouldn't have. She knows she has to think quickly, make up some excuse that sounds plausible or else they'll arrest her for spying and she knows without really understanding why that she needs to stay right where she is if she's ever going to get back to her own life.

"I was on an errand for my boss," she says, keeping it as vague as she can. "Kinda got sidetracked."

"Does it have anything to do with what's in that bag?" he asks, pointing at the satchel she's still got looped around her shoulder.

She shrugs. "I don't think he was expecting me to find this."

"Does your boss know there's a war on?" Steve asks, frowning at her. "Or is he just in the habit of sending women into war zones without protection?"

Maria bristles at Barnes' inelegant snort. "I've got a gun."

"And you know how to use it," Steve says, completely ignoring his friend. "But that doesn't change the fact that you were captured, and could have been killed if we hadn't found you."

"I live with that risk every day, Captain," she says. 

Steve raises his eyebrow. "You gonna tell me who this boss of yours is?"

Technically, she hasn't outright lied to him yet, but it's not like he'll know any different if she does. At least not now, anyway. Still, she has to tell him something, so she weighs her options and goes with a name she figures he won't question. 

"His name's Stark," she says. Tony will probably laugh his ass off once he finds out she used his father's name as a get-out-of-jail-free card, but it's not like she's going to tell him.

"Howard Stark?" Steve asks, both eyebrows lifting.

Maria cringes internally. It's a definite risk, using Stark as her cover, but if she remembers her research correctly, Howard Stark is in London and not likely to be able to counter her story. Besides, she's betting he's no different than Tony in that the younger Stark almost never remembers the low-level functionaries he hires—or Pepper hires for him. 

Besides, the cover only has to last long enough for her to get out of—well, wherever it is she's found herself. And if push comes to shove, maybe Stark could help. Like father, like son, after all.

"What's your name?" he asks, when she remains silent.

"Maria," she says. "Maria Hennessy."

She holds her breath, hoping Steve will just accept it without question.

"Maria Hennessy," he says, and the way her name rolls off his tongue is both achingly familiar and completely foreign at the same time. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Hennessy. I'm—"

"Captain Steve Rogers," she says, holding out her hand to shake his. "I remember."

"Am I that famous back home?" he asks, that little self-deprecating smile melting her a little.

"Yeah, you kind of are."

He blushes as he looks away, and she tries—and fails spectacularly—not to find it endearing. 

They fall into silence after that. Most everyone on the truck has run out of things to talk about and are either sitting quietly or napping. Maria leans back against the truck wall and closes her eyes. She has no idea what's happened to her or why, but she knows she's not going to figure it out all at once and definitely not on this truck. 

She can only hope that there are answers waiting for her wherever it is they're going.

~o~

It takes eight long, grueling hours to return to base. The Commandos share their snacks and water with her, but for the most part, she's given a wide berth. An easy silence falls between her and Steve. She's afraid to start another conversation, all too aware that she might give something away if she does, but it seems he's content to sit beside her and let her lean on him.

She really is too tired for words. It's been a long day, and finding herself so far from home is draining whatever energy reserves she had.

Finally, they pull into a compound and the men eagerly jump off the trucks, headed for the showers and a hot meal. The prisoners are escorted away, all of them looking beaten and weary. Maria tries not to think too hard about the fate that awaits them. If this were the former SHIELD, they'd be tortured for information and then imprisoned. This being a war zone, it's a good bet their ultimate fate won't be as tidy.

She shakes her head, turning to find Steve watching her.

"Come on," he says, waving a hand at her, not asking what she'd been staring at. 

For all intents and purposes, she's a civilian in all this, so her thoughts are probably not that much different than someone who has no experience with war. Because really, for all that she's seen and done since joining SHIELD, she's never seen true combat and after today, she doesn’t really want to.

She follows Steve—and Bucky, who falls in behind her like a bodyguard—across the compound and into a large and elegant building. She realizes they must be in Versailles—the Allied Forces European Theater Headquarters. Eisenhower and his commanders had taken over the entire town sometime after D-Day and stayed through the end of the war. But knowing where she is does nothing to quell the nerves at what she's about to face. She doesn't want to have to try an escape; she'd rather be welcomed to stay so she can figure out how to get back home without having to do it on the run from the Germans and the Allies.

A woman joins them in the hallway, falling into step beside Steve. Maria realizes with a start that it's Peggy Carter. She's long admired the first woman to serve with the Strategic Scientific Reserve—what later became SHIELD. A woman of strength and courage, Maria has always tried to live up to Peggy's legacy. 

"The Colonel is waiting for you in his office," Peggy says to Steve.

He nods, as if he was expecting that very thing. The two exchange a speaking look, but Maria can't quite tell what they're saying. She's given no more time to contemplate as she's lead through a door into a room dominated by a large desk and an even larger man.

Colonel Chester Phillips is an imposing man, but that's more down to the scowl and the uniform than his sheer size—being just about as tall as Captain America—Maria decides as she looks at them side-by-side for the first time.

"Peggy tells me we found you in the HYDRA compound," he says to her. "Care to tell me what you were doing there?"

"I was on an errand for my boss when I got Shanghaied," she says, sticking with the vague story she'd told Steve in the truck.

"And your boss is?"

"She says she works for Stark," Bucky puts in from somewhere behind Steve.

"Hmmm," the Colonel says, frowning at her as if she were a particularly difficult puzzle. She probably is, what with the strange clothes and tight lips. "I should put you on the first transport Stateside."

"Or you could keep me here," Maria says, surprising even herself. 

Phillips' eyes bore into her. "Tell me why, and I might."

She's surprised he isn't just drop-kicking her out of France, but she'll take whatever she can get. "I can help you with Stark." Phillips snorts, so she goes on. "And I have a pretty good head for tactics. I can help. I'd like to try."

Phillips contemplates her for long moments. She has no idea what's going on behind those dark eyes, and she definitely doesn't like not knowing. Finally, he takes a deep breath and turns to Steve, looking at him with something like fond exasperation. "You know, every time you go out on a mission, you bring me back a stray."

Steve ducks his head, but not before Maria catches the smile he's trying to hide. "Yes, sir."

"Make no mistake, Captain," Phillips says, turning serious. "She's your responsibility. If anything happens to her, it's on you."

"I understand," Steve says. 

It's in that moment that Maria truly understands the gravity of her situation. She's hundreds of miles and decades removed from where she's supposed to be, in the middle of a war zone and ill-equipped for the events she's found herself part of.

At least now she knows what Steve must have felt like when he woke up in 2012. 

She can't decide whether to thank karma or punch its lights out.

~o~

They file out of the Colonel's office, stopping in the hallway. Peggy touches Steve's arm, nodding at him briefly. Steve turns to Maria and smiles.

"Go with Peggy and get cleaned up. I'll see you later."

Bucky tips her a sloppy salute before the two men saunter off—well, Steve strides off, while Bucky slouches after him. She turns to find Peggy watching her, but she still can't get a good read on the woman. She's heard the stories, about how Peggy was Steve's girl, but Steve has never talked about that—at least, the Steve from her time—and it was never any of her business, so she didn't ask. Now she's wishing she had, because the woman is radiating cold indifference, and it's getting on Maria's last nerve.

"Come along, then," Peggy says, turning on her heel and heading for the exit.

Maria follows her outside and across the compound, into a low, non-descript building. "The first thing we should do is get you some more appropriate clothing," Peggy says as she sweeps down one of the aisles. 

Maria realizes they're in some sort of supply building. Row after row of every variety of gear an Army on the move might need is laid out before her. She follows Peggy, who's stopped about halfway down a row with lots of uniforms.

"They didn't expect women serving in theatre," she says wryly, "so no ladies clothing, I'm afraid."

"No problem," Maria says. "I'll make do."

Peggy looks her up and down. "A little thinner than me, I think."

Maria tries not to take offense as Peggy sorts through some options. She pulls pants and shirts off the shelves, all in varying shades of brown and tan. "Let's see how those work, shall we?"

It isn't really a question, as Peggy sweeps past her and out of the building, down the narrow lane and into another building that she realizes must have been an inn at one point, but has been turned into quarters for the officers and troops working there. Up a flight of stairs and through another door and they're in a room with two twin beds, which Maria realizes must be Peggy's.

"Now, let's try these on," she says, all business. "Shirts first, I think."

Maria strips out of her field uniform, folding it and setting it on the unoccupied bed. Peggy's first guess on shirt size is a good fit. If she rolls up the sleeves, no one will guess it isn't made for her. The pants take a couple of tries, but they're not actually bad. They have a wide leg, and are probably quite fashionable in her own time. Not that she plans on keeping them, but at least she won't look so terribly out of place.

Peggy eyes her critically in the mirror above the dresser once she's got the shirt tucked in and the belt on the pants fastened. "Not a terrible tragedy," she says, giving Maria another wry smile. 

"I've looked worse," Maria assures her. A few missions gone wrong float into her mind, but she pushes them away. She's got no time to rehash old failures at the moment.

"Let's see about your hair," Peggy says, tugging at what's left of Maria's bun.

Her hair falls around her shoulders, kinked up and looking like she's slept on it. Peggy works a brush through her hair, gently pulling out the tangles as Maria watches her in the mirror. She finds herself thinking that Peggy is just like the woman she's heard described in the history books: no-nonsense, strong, smart.

"You haven't asked me any questions," Maria says as she watches Peggy curl and pin her hair into an elegant chignon.

Peggy looks her in the eye through the mirror. "Steve seems to trust you."

"And that's good enough for you?"

Peggy sighs, turning to lean against the dresser. "I heard what some of the Commandos said about you as they were coming off the trucks. You can handle yourself in a tough situation, and you don't 'fight like a girl' as they say." 

Maria chuckles at that last bit.

"Besides, the Germans aren't known for using female spies."

"Not sure that's entirely true, but I'll take it," Maria says. 

"Are you hungry?" Peggy asks. "The cooks always have something simmering for late-night stragglers, if you'd like."

Maria's stomach takes that moment to growl impressively. "Guess that's a yes," she says.

Peggy smiles and says, "Come on, then. I could do with something warm myself."

Maria picks up the jacket Peggy brought and shrugs into it. It's short and brown like the trousers, but when she looks in the mirror, Maria thinks she doesn't look half bad. She pulls on her own boots before following Peggy out the door.

~o~

The mess hall is mostly dark and quiet at this time of night, but true to Peggy's word, there's some food laid out, and plenty of coffee. There's a small knot of people huddled around a group of tables on the far side of the room, but it's only as she follows Peggy closer that Maria realizes it's Steve and several of the Commandos. 

Peggy settles in next to Steve, leaving Maria to sit between Dugan and Falsworth. She tries not to feel like she's being shunted aside, now that they're back to base. Bucky's knowing smirk tells her she's not exactly being subtle.

Conversation flows as the men eat dinner. Every once in a while, other groups of soldiers—most from the raid earlier that day—slip into the mess and pick up some food. Most just grab their food and go, but a few settle at tables around the room, their quiet conversations not quite penetrating the circle Maria's in. 

She hadn't realized it before, but now that she's seeing it action it makes perfect sense: while there are hundreds of men that make up the Howling Commandos, it's the men at this table—the men she'd ridden in the truck with all the way back from Hungary—that represent the core group. They're the ones Steve trusts with his life and the ones he'll mourn when he wakes up in the future. 

She's glad he has these memories to fall back on.

Before she's quite realized it, her tray has been cleared away and her coffee topped off. Then Dugan tips the contents of a flask into her cup. She sniffs at it suspiciously, and is rewarded with fumes that could probably melt the eyebrows off her face. She looks at the man dubiously, but all Dugan does is smile encouragingly. Maria shrugs and takes a sip.

"Holy shit!" she yells as she practically chokes on the vile brew. "What the hell's in this stuff? Jet fuel?"

Dugan merely laughs, slapping her back enthusiastically enough that she figures she'll have bruises the next morning. 

"The Aussies call it 'giggle juice'," Falsworth says, peering into his own cup. "They brew it in the barracks. Makes the coffee almost tolerable."

The group chuckles at that. Maria looks around, seeing the twin smirks on Peggy's and Bucky's faces. Steve appears to be glaring at Dugan, but when Maria catches his eye she merely salutes him with her cup and takes another—smaller—sip. That breaks Steve's glare into a rueful smile, and even though Maria still has to catch her breath after the sip, she thinks maybe she could get used to this.

Not the alcohol, but sitting around, sharing camaraderie and a drink with these men.

They sit and chat amiably for another hour. No one notices when Maria doesn't talk much, and she's grateful for that. She simply sits back and lets the conversation wash over her, enjoying the stories and basking in the warmth of the group.

The day finally catches up to her, though, and Maria knows if she doesn't go find a bed sometime soon, she's going to fall asleep in her coffee cup. The group breaks up then, each one off to find some well-deserved rest.

"Debrief at 1300 tomorrow," Steve says to the group at large.

"Good," Peggy says, nodding. "It'll give me time to show Maria where Howard's set up."

Maria's so tired that not even the mention of her erstwhile boss is enough to get a reaction from her. She follows Peggy out of the mess and across the compound, back to the barracks building. There's another set of clothes on the bed, as well as several other items she might need—socks, underwear, a hairbrush and toothbrush, and even a t-shirt and boxers to sleep in. She tosses a grateful smile at Peggy, then quickly readies for bed and falls in under the covers.

She's asleep before her head hits the pillow.

~o~

After a hasty breakfast the next morning, Peggy takes Maria down into the basement of the headquarters building. What she sees there stops her in her tracks.

Bent over a table, peering curiously at the device Maria brought back from Hungary, is a man that's the spitting image of Tony Stark. Same dark hair, same intensity, same spark of curiosity.

"Stark," Peggy says, when clearing her throat doesn't manage to get the man's attention.

"Hmmm?" Stark—Howard, because it's hard enough looking at a man who looks so much like someone she knows and it'll be tough enough to keep them separate in her head from now on as it is—looks up, his expression going from warmly friendly when he sees Peggy to straight-up intrigued as his eyes slide to Maria. "Well, hello there, gorgeous," he says, coming around the table to take her hand, bowing low over it as he presses a whisper of a kiss over the back.

He's smiling at her as he straightens up, dropping a quick wink as he turns to Peggy, who's scowling at him.

"I take it you know this woman?"

"Who, Maria?" Howard says, smiling as he tucks Maria's hand into the crook of his elbow. "Of course. I hired her, didn't I?"

Peggy's lips go thin, and Maria's not entirely sure she believes Howard's words, but before she can challenge him, he's bustling her out the door.

"Don't worry about us, Doll," he says, winking at Peggy. "We've got lots to discuss."

When Peggy's out the door and all that's left is the faint scent of her perfume and the fading click of her heels on the tiles, Howard turns to Maria and gazes at her speculatively. Maria squirms a little under the scrutiny. He's no Nick Fury, that's for sure, but somehow she still feels like a misbehaving schoolgirl called to the Principal's office.

It's not a nice feeling, but at least he's not leering at her. Yet.

"So," he says as he moves back to the table, picking up some sort of scanning device as he returns his attention to the—whatever it is on the table. "Who are you, really?"

"How do you know I'm not really Maria Hennessy?" she counters.

"Good point," Howard says, glancing at her. He fiddles with the scanner, bringing it to life and waving it over the device. "Since I've never met a Maria Hennessy, and I've never met you before, it stands to reason that you could be her." He looks up at her, piercing her with his gaze. "But you're not, are you?"

Maria deflates a little, leaning against the table as she rubs her forehead. "No, I'm not. Just, please don't tell anyone that. I'm fairly certain the Colonel would have me arrested for spying."

"Now why would I do that?" Howard says. She looks up to catch him winking at her again. "A pretty girl like you doesn't belong in a jail cell. Besides, if I let them haul you off, I'll never get to hear about this little gem you've brought back."

"Do you know what it is?" she asks. 

"I was hoping you did," Howard says. He shrugs. "It's putting out low levels of Gamma radiation—so low they're barely registering on my instruments—like the power cells on those HYDRA weapons Rogers brought back. Damned if I know what it's supposed to be powering, though."

He spends a few more silent moments examining the device, but whatever it was supposed to be able to do, nothing Howard does makes it react, even a little. 

"Was it on when you found it?" he asks some time later.

She debates whether she should tell him the whole story, or just the edited bits. It sounds cliché, but she's not sure how much about the future she should really reveal and she isn't really sure Howard Stark is ready to believe in time travel. She's not really ready, either, but she's living it so she's got no choice.

"Look, you're not from around here, I get it," he says into the silence. "And I'm betting that this—thing—is the reason why."

"What makes you say that?"

Howard sighs and sets the scanner down. He moves around the table and leans back, crossing his arms and legs. "That thing—whatever it is—has the same energy signature as whatever it is HYDRA is using to power their weapons. The difference is, this thing's signature is warped slightly, like it came from a different dimension. Or time."

Maria shifts, leaning back beside him and crossing her own arms. "I found it in a room in the subbasement of a sanatorium on the outskirts of Budapest," she says quietly. 

She's going to go with honesty and hope that something she says triggers Howard's scientist-brain. It's the only way she can think of to get the thing working again so she can get back where she belongs. "The guy I found in the room with the device had just activated it—and no, I don't know how," she says when Howard opens his mouth.

"It… built up a charge is the only way I can describe it, and before I could get out of the room, it went off." She pauses, because this is the part she can't quite make sense of. "It didn't knock me out, but it was close. I grabbed the thing and left the room, except I wasn't where I started, and before I could get back to the room to figure out what happened, I was grabbed by a HYDRA goon."

"And Rogers liberated you when the Commandos hit the HYDRA compound," Howard finishes for her. 

Maria nods, but she knows she doesn't need to confirm that part. By now, the news of her capture and rescue are probably all over the base.

"Can you make it work again?" she asks in a small voice.

"Maybe. I'm not even sure how it works in the first place, to tell you the truth," Howard says. "What happens if I can't?"

"Then I'm stuck a long way from home," she says. She looks up and meets his eyes. "I'd like to get back to my life—my time—because the longer I stay here, the more chance there is that I'll compromise something and I can't risk that."

Howard studies her for several long minutes. She knows she's just admitted something that makes her an ideal candidate for a rubber room, but she knows she has to trust someone at this point. Might as well be Howard Stark.

"I'll do what I can, on one condition," he says.

Maria knows she's going to regret this, but she has to ask. "And what's that?"

"Tell me who you really are, and whether there's really a Maria Hennessy out there."

"That's two conditions, Stark," she says, smirking.

He shrugs, completely unconcerned. "Okay, so there's two conditions. Now, spill."

She could probably talk him out of it, but she'd rather have Howard on her side. Besides, he'll be long dead by the time she joins SHIELD, so it's a small sacrifice on her part to gain his cooperation.

"My name really is Maria," she says. "Maria Hill. As for Maria Hennessy—the less you know about her before you meet her, the better."

Because one day, he will meet Maria Hennessy. He'll marry her, and Maria doesn't want to say anything that might change that. Howard seems satisfied with her answer, though, since he doesn't press her for more details. 

"Can I ask you a question?" she asks.

"Sure," he says, shrugging.

"How did you know about me?

"Colonel Phillips sent me a message," he says. "Told me to get my ass over here because one of my people had brought back something interesting and he didn't want to send it to London before we knew what it is or whether it's dangerous."

"Is that why you played along?"

Howard smiles, but it's a bit mischievous. He leans in, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he whispers in her ear. "I played along because I never turn down the chance to meet a pretty girl."

Maria's heart rate picks up, her pulse fluttering as she gets a good whiff of his expensive cologne. Damn, but she's a sucker for a good-smelling man. And a good looking one, too, but she's pretty sure he'd already figured that out. Not that Howard Stark is her type, but she's human and he is handsome.

He pushes off the table, winking at her once more, and goes back around, peering down at the device and poking it with one slender finger, totally oblivious to the storm he's left in his wake.

"Now, how about we figure out what you do, hmmm?"

~o~

Maria wanders into the mess hall later that afternoon to find that when Steve had said debrief at 1300 hours, what he'd really meant was coffee and a roundtable discussion in the mess. She pours herself a cup of coffee and moves closer to the gathering in the corner—the same corner they'd occupied for dinner last night, so this must be "their" spot—and listens.

There's a lot of talk about how to gain more of the element of surprise, because once HYDRA figures out what's going on, they lose whatever advantage they had going in. Maria can practically see the gears in Steve's head turning as he considers the problem from all angles. 

The meeting breaks up not long after, some of the men stopping for coffee refills on their way out. Bucky nods at her on his way past, but it's Steve who stops to say hi.

"Somehow I pictured your debriefs happening in a bunker over maps and film footage," she says, smiling at the image her words conjure.

Steve shrugs. "It's just as easy to do it here. We've all memorized the maps anyway, and I don't think any of us really wants to see the footage again."

"I hadn't thought of that," Maria says. 

"You looked like you had something to add," he says when she stays silent. "Care to share?"

Maria debates with herself for a moment or two. She's sure he'll figure it out on his own—Steve Rogers is no tactical slouch—but if she can nudge him in the right direction, it'll make their next raid go that much smoother.

"You could probably use a sniper," she says. "Eyes up high, to contain HYDRA and take out the threats before they become threats."

Steve looks like he's considering her words, like he's riffling through his mental rolodex, looking for the one guy who'd fit the bill.

"Isn't Sergeant Barnes qualified with a sniper rifle?" she asks, knowing she shouldn't but not able to help herself. Besides, who's to say it wasn't her that gave him the idea in the first place, which is all kinds of wrong and is giving her a headache.

"Yeah, he's qualified," Steve says. "But the reason we didn't use him is because he'd have to infiltrate alone in order to get into position. Not ideal at the best of times."

Maria would bet that Bucky argued in favor of it, despite the fact that he'd be alone and vulnerable, but she's not going to say that. What she does say is, "It's a risk/reward proposition, but you have to use every advantage you have. You can't afford to be sentimental, just because he's your friend."

"Bucky said the same thing," he says, smiling in that way he has that says he knows when he's been beat. "His perch would have been too exposed, but we definitely could have used some help. Might have kept some of them from running into the woods, at a minimum."

"You're the team leader, Captain," she says, laying a hand on his arm. "Only you get to decide if the risk is worth the reward, but you also need to take every advantage you can. HYDRA's not going to give an inch, so you're going to have to take every win you can get."

"You sound like some of them," Steve says, nodding his head at the last of the Commandos leaving the tent.

"I'll take that as a compliment," she says, smiling wider.

Steve just inclines his head, his smile tipping up on one side. She goes back and refills her coffee, grabbing another cup for Howard while she's at it. He's wired enough as it is, but she figures he barely stopped for lunch, so he's probably about due for a refill anyway.

On her way out of the tent, she spots Steve and Peggy talking in the far corner. Their conversation looks intense, so Maria decides not to interrupt. She can't help but remember all the stories about the two of them, but from what she's seen, their relationship is cordial but tense, and she's not sure if it's just because of the circumstances or if there's something else going on. Steve appeared to be carrying a lot of regret when she'd first met him, so she can't help but wonder if what she's seeing now is the cause.

Not that she can do anything about that now, even if she wanted to. Instead, she refocuses on Howard and the device she brought back from Budapest. They've made some progress, so she's hopeful that her stay in 1945 won't be long, because the longer she's here, the more she wants to interfere and that will only end badly. For everyone.

~o~

The Army serves what they charitably call breakfast early in the morning. After tossing and turning most of the night, Maria rises early and heads directly for the coffee. She sips greedily as she makes her way through the line, taking something that might have been scrambled eggs in another lifetime, and some bacon and toast that at least looks edible, before refilling her coffee cup and taking a seat in the corner.

She doesn't realize which corner until a tray plops down next to hers. She looks up—startled out of her thoughts—to find Sergeant Barnes grinning at her in that devil-may-care way that she remembers from all the pictures. Her gut clenches again at what's ahead for this man, but she pastes on what she hopes is a passable smile as she nods at him.

"You're up kinda early, Doll," he says, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye as he shovels eggs into his mouth.

Maria shrugs, sipping from her cup. "Didn't sleep well last night. Strange place, strange noises. Figured I might as well get the day started."

"So," Bucky says, pausing just long enough for Maria to know that something's up. "Where are you from?"

Maria sucks in a quiet breath. She could lie—she's a spy, for crying out loud—and choose any number of hometowns anywhere on the planet. But oddly, she doesn't want to. Maybe it's Steve's reputation as a Boy Scout, or maybe it's just that her home is probably the one thing that hasn't changed. Or maybe she just doesn't want to have to lie anymore. For whatever reason, she opens her mouth, and out pops, "New York."

Bucky raises one eyebrow. "Really? Where? I bet you're one of those upstate chicks that thinks the city's too dirty or noisy. Got too many people."

"Bucky," Steve admonishes as he settles across from her, flashing a smile even as he glares at his best friend. "Don't mind him. He was raised by wolves."

Maria chuckles. "It's okay. I was actually born and raised in Queens."

"Not a bad place to grow up," Bucky says. He glances at Steve, then looks back to her, sipping his own coffee as he eyes her speculatively. "You ever been to the Fox Theater? Great place for a Friday night date."

He waggles his eyebrows, drawing a chuckle out of both Maria and Steve, even as Maria's memory tickles at the mention of the theater.

"Sadly, that place burned down before I ever had the chance," she says smoothly, glad for once that her grandmother was so fond of telling stories about the old neighborhood. She conveniently leaves out the part where the theater was rebuilt after the war and now shows classic films exclusively. She'd wiled away many a summer Saturday in blessed air conditioning, watching Cary Grant and Humphrey Bogart and Katherine Hepburn light up the silver screen.

Bucky smiles at her answer, giving a not-so-subtle nod to Steve, and not fooling Maria in the slightest. It was a test, and she knows it. And by the look on Bucky's face, he doesn't much care that she's figured it out. Still, it's nice to know that someone's looking out for Steve. Not that he needs it, but it's always good to have friends who care.

"Well," Maria says, rising and gathering up her dishes. "Time to go beard the lion."

She winks at Bucky and smiles at Steve as she turns to put her dishes in the return bins. She hears Bucky say, "That dame's alright" as she walks away. It brings a smile to her face, one that doesn't leave as she fills two more coffee mugs and heads for Howard's lab.

She may be stuck in the past, but she thinks she could get used to it.

~o~

The days pass in a lazy haze, for all that they're at the edge of a war zone. Howard applies himself with an enthusiasm she can easily recognize as the legacy he left his son. It's disconcerting and reassuring to see how much father and son are alike. Not that she's ever going to tell Tony that. She likes her job and would like to keep it, thank you very much.

The ice between she and Peggy seems to have thawed, at least a little, though Maria's not fooling herself into thinking all is well. Peggy's clearly jealous of any woman who catches Steve's attention, for any reason at all. It's hard to forget that this woman is old and unwell in 2014, and that she and Steve never really got the chance at the fairytale ending they deserved. If she could change that for them, she would, but she knows she won't be around long enough. The best she can do is to try to push them in the right direction; give them a moment in the here-and-now that Steve will be able to hold on to.

The Commandos seem unconcerned that there's another woman in their midst. They've simply accepted her presence here as readily as they'd accepted Peggy. It's heartening to know that they don't see gender any more than they see race or nationality. She's just one of the guys here, able to blend in and disappear into the crowd. 

Planning sessions have taken up the vast majority of their days as they inch closer to the Poland Campaign, as Colonel Phillips calls it. There are two facilities in Poland, and the plan is to hit them both in quick succession, leaving precious little time in between for HYDRA to rally their forces. 

She's not sleeping well, what with the stress of fitting in and not saying something that'll give her away. But whether it's late at night and she's avoiding bed in order not to disturb Peggy, or early in the morning when she's spent too many hours tossing and turning, she almost always finds Steve in the mess tent, nursing a cup of coffee and studying maps and reports and surveillance photos of the HYDRA bases they're targeting next.

She's come to treasure those quiet moments, when they talk about everything and nothing. Steve is kind and sincere, quick witted and a little goofy. He's like an onion, and she finds herself looking forward to those talks, looking forward to peeling away the next layer to reveal something else she never knew about him. She knows it's dangerous, but she's convinced herself that there's no harm in getting to know him. Even if he does remember her, what they talk about in the mostly-dark mess isn't going to alter the course of history. It's the only lie she's told herself since she arrived in 1945, but she's trying hard not to think about it.

Maria's spending most of her time with Howard—reading a dog-eared copy of The Hobbit, a book she hasn't picked up since she was a little girl—listening to him mutter and swear as he tries to figure out why the stone at the center of the device is barely registering on his instruments.

Today, though, not even Hobbits and Dwarves can distract her from the press of urgency she's feeling. She needs to go back to 2014, of that she's certain, and the sooner the better. She doesn't think she'll be stuck here if she doesn't return soon, but since Howard can barely make heads or tails of the device, she's just not sure so she'd rather err on the side of caution.

Instead of hanging out in Howard's lab, she's wandered out to the field adjacent to the headquarters building. Someone's carved a baseball diamond into the dirt, and there's a game in progress. Steve, Bucky and several of the Commandos versus the HQ support staff. The Commandos are ahead 2-1, and Maria's not being very subtle about who she's rooting for. 

Steve's warming up, swinging the bat in great arcs with an elegance and ease that belies the fact that he hasn't been this Steve for long. Maria can't help herself; she watches, admiring the way the muscles of his back play under the thin cotton of his t-shirt. Steve must feel her eyes on him, because he turns around and winks.

When the catcher calls for time and trots towards the pitcher, Steve shoulders his bat and wanders over to her, settling on the bench some thoughtful soul placed along the First Base line.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Maria smiles. "I am, actually. It's been a long time since I've been to a game, so this is nice."

"Well, it's not the Yankees, but I guess it'll do," Steve says.

Maria doesn't mention that it's good to have something to take their minds off the upcoming operation. Instead, she says, "Did you play? Before…?"

"Before Rebirth?" Steve asks, even though they both know what she wasn't saying. He shakes his head. "I was a scrawny, asthmatic kid from Brooklyn. Not much call for one of those in the Big Leagues, much less the sandlot."

"You seem like you're a natural."

Steve shrugs. "Some things came easy, after Rebirth. Others didn't. I've stopped trying to figure out why."

Maria smiles, bumping her shoulder with his. "You mean Erskine's formula didn't make you suave and charming?"

His brow dips in confusion before he lets a wry smile tip his lips. "I kinda wish it had," he says. Maria thinks he's more charming than he realizes, but she doesn't say it out loud. "Maybe if it had, it'd be easier to talk to some people."

"You're talking to me just fine," she says. 

"You're different."

Maria tilts her head. "Different how?"

"I don't know," he says, shrugging as he watches the action on the field. "You just are. It's like you see me for me and not as Captain America. Not many women do. Not many people do."

And suddenly Maria gets how hard it must have been for him to want so badly to be doing something to aid the war effort—something that didn't involve costumes and bad acting—but instead being stuck as a prop, fawned over because of this physique that isn't really him, seen by everyone as a caricature instead of a soldier.

She lays a hand on his arm, drawing his attention. "Just keep being who you are. That's why they follow you. That's why they respect you. They're not following Captain America; they're following Steve Rogers. And the ones who can't see that don't matter anyway."

His answering smile is bright and relieved. "Thanks."

Before she can say anything more, someone yells for Steve.

"Hey, Loverboy! Wanna join the game?"

Steve gives her an abashed smile before jogging up to the plate. Maria cheers, of course, and very deliberately doesn't think about how his smile warmed her from the inside out.

~o~

Maria pushes through the door to Howard's lab, excitement thrumming under her skin. He'd sent one of the lab techs out to the baseball diamond with a message saying he'd found something, so she'd wasted no time making her way to the lab.

"What've you got, Stark?"

Howard's head pops up, goggles making his eyeballs look huge. He's wearing a leather apron and thick gloves, and he looks ridiculous, but that's not what Maria's focusing on. 

The stone is glowing.

"When did that happen?" she asks as she moves closer.

Howard holds up a hand, stalling her progress. "It started about an hour ago, as near as I can tell, but I think it's been building since it discharged. Whatever it did to you, it probably needed to recharge, which is why I wasn't reading much in the way of energy coming off it."

He comes around the table, tugging her with him until they're almost back to the doors. He pushes up the goggles and tugs off his gloves, settling his fists on his hips, arms akimbo. The device is still glowing, a slow pulse that barely fades even as it sparkles and shimmers.

"Is it dangerous?" she asks. Not that it much matters at this point, because she's already been exposed, but it can't hurt to ask.

Howard looks down at the gloves still clutched in his hands, at his apron, protecting the more vulnerable bits of his anatomy. "What? This?" he says, waving his hand at his protective gear. "I don't think it's any more dangerous than those power cells that Captain Rogers brought back, but I can't be sure. Just me being paranoid. Besides, you've already been exposed, and you haven't dropped dead yet."

He winks at her, and she rolls her eyes. The Stark charm must be genetic, because it's like having a conversation with Tony. 

"Now, let's see what this thing can do," he says, tugging on his gloves and moving back around the table, crouching down to peer at the device.

Before she can tell him not to, he's tapped the outermost ring, which starts spinning, drawing the others with it. The stone begins to glow brighter, and some instinct inside tells Maria that she can't let it discharge here. She crosses the room in just a few strides and drops her hand on the device, stopping the rings in their tracks. Instead of discharging, the stone's glow retreats a bit, returning to the soft brightness of before.

Maria sighs in relief. Leave it to a Stark to act first and think after.

Howard straightens up, tilting his head. "How'd you know you could stop it?"

"I didn't, not really," she says, shrugging. "But if it took four days to recharge, it makes sense that letting it discharge here would be a bad idea. That's providing it didn't dump me in prehistoric France."

"Good point," Howard says, pointing at her.

Maria can only roll her eyes.

"So, now what?" Maria asks.

"Now we know it works," Howard says. "But since—as you point out—it's probably not a good idea to test it, we're just going to have to trust that it'll do what we hope and return you to your time. Got any idea where you want to set this thing up?"

"Ideally, I'd like to do it in the same room I was in at the start of this whole thing," Maria says on a sigh.

"I had a feeling you were going to say that," Howard says. He tugs his gloves off and tucks his hands into his pockets. "Look, I can help you get out of Versailles, but the rest is going to be up to you. You're going to have to drive, and avoid being stopped. You think you can do it?"

Maria would like to say 'piece of cake', but she knows it isn't simple by any stretch of the imagination. A woman travelling alone through unfamiliar territory, with potentially hostile forces scattered all along the way? Yeah, this isn't going to be easy, but she has to try.

Standing up straighter, she looks Howard in the eye. "I've gone on missions that were more dangerous than this. I'll be fine. I'll have to be."

Howard raises an eyebrow but pointedly doesn't ask, for which Maria is infinitely grateful.

~o~

The Newsreel crew arrives the next morning, and Maria's honestly surprised they got past Colonel Phillips. But, since their purpose is to show the folks back home just what their troops are up to 'over there', she supposes it was inevitable that they'd end up at the Headquarters for the Allied Troops. Maria even thinks she's caught a glimpse of Eisenhower as he arrives back from an inspection tour.

They'd wanted some footage of Captain America consulting with his troops as they planned the next raid. In truth, the planning is already done, but the folks back home want to see the familiar face of everyone's favorite hero, so Steve tries to accommodate them as best he can.

Maria stands back from the group crowded around the Jeep, well out of sight of the cameras, watching as Steve and a few of the Commandos pour over a familiar map. Steve's got his compass out, the picture of Peggy plain as day inside the lid. 

She remembers watching the footage when she was helping Phil go over the dossier on Captain America for The Avengers Initiative. She knew then that it was staged, but to experience it firsthand is surreal in the extreme. 

Then Steve's eyes drift to hers and he winks, that small smile making her traitorous heart flutter in her chest like a teenage girl with a crush.

She can't keep the blush off her cheeks so she looks away and drifts farther back, away from the scene staged for the cameras. She doesn't remember seeing herself in the original footage, and she has zero interest in making even that small change to the timeline, lest it change her own future in some way she can't even imagine in this moment. Although, she's afraid, deep down, that she's already changed things irrevocably, just by being here and breathing the air.

She decides then and there that she honest-to-god hates time travel.

~o~

It's full dark as Maria moves quietly across the compound, headed towards the motor pool. True to his word, Howard's gotten her the keys to a car, and drawn a map back to Budapest. Not that she's unfamiliar with this part of the world, but her knowledge comes from 2014 not 1945. 

There are guards patrolling the perimeter, but Howard's promised he's got a way for her to get past them. She's putting a lot of faith in the man, knowing almost nothing about him, but she realized on that first day that she had to trust somebody and oddly, a Stark was her best option.

Maria stops at the corner of the building housing the motor pool. Just around the corner is a car and freedom. Her heart is pounding as she resettles the bag over her shoulder. She's still wearing the uniform Peggy found for her, hoping it'll help her blend in better as she makes her way back to Hungary. It still feels strange to be wearing it, but her tactical uniform from the raid is tucked in the bag with the device so she can change before she returns. Hopefully. 

She squeezes the keys clutched in her hand and peers around the corner. All is quiet, just as Howard promised, so she slips around the corner and heads for the car. She stops short when she realizes that there's someone leaning against the fender. She's just about decided to head back where she came from and try again later when the person leaning against the car turns and looks at her.

It's Steve.

"Were you going to tell me you were leaving, or were you just going to slip away?"

Maria sighs. This would have been so much easier if he hadn't found out, but it won't change the fact that she can't stay. 

"I have to go," she says.

"Will you tell me why?" When she doesn't say anything, he sighs. "It's got something to do with the device you had with you, doesn't it? The one you and Howard have been trying to figure out."

"Yes, it does," she says, sighing. 

She leans against the car beside Steve, wrapping her hands around the strap of her bag. She debates whether to tell him or not. She could just spin a story, tell him that Howard needs her to take it somewhere. Tell him anything but the truth. But if this works, she needs to be able to look him in the eye when it's all over. 

"Do you know what it does?" he asks.

"Essentially, it's a time travel device," she says, figuring to get it all out there at once. Even if he doesn't believe her, she'd rather have it out there than lie to Captain America. "It transported me from 2014 to 1945."

Steve stares at her for several long minutes, his expression blank so she can't tell what's going on in his head. She has no idea what she'll do if he doesn't believe her. It's not like she can just overpower him and take the car. She's been lying to him since the moment she met him—the Steve Rogers of 1945—so she wouldn't blame him one bit if he didn't believe her. 

"I'd like to say there's no such thing as time travel, but given the fact that someone shot me full of a serum and then used radiation to turn me into a Super Soldier, I suppose time travel's really not that impossible."

His words startle a laugh out of her. "I hadn't thought of it quite that way, but I suppose you're right."

"Come on," he says, pushing off the car. "Let's go get some coffee, and then you can explain the whole thing to me."

Maria doesn't even fight it, she just follows him to the mess tent and fills a cup. They end up in their usual corner, and Maria takes a few sips of coffee as she gathers her thoughts.

"So, tell me what happened," Steve says once they've both settled in.

So she does. She tells him about the mission and the sanatorium and finding the man in the room with the device. She doesn't tell him about his part in it all. It sounds like the cheesiest line from the worst sci-fi movie ever made, but she thinks if he knows too much about the future, he might make choices that would put that future in jeopardy. No matter what happens, she needs to believe that things will unfold the way they were meant to.

"And you're sure it'll work?" he asks when she's run out of steam.

"No, I'm not sure of anything," she says. "But I have to try. I can't stay here; I don't belong."

"Were you going to drive all the way to Hungary by yourself?"

Maria sighs. "Believe it or not, where I come from, the job I do, I've been in tougher situations. I can handle myself."

"I don't doubt it," he says, smiling wryly. "I was there when you beat the hell out of a couple of HYDRA goons on the way out of the compound. But this is different. If you're captured by the Nazi's, they'll treat you like a spy, and it won't be pretty."

Maria sighs, staring into her coffee cup before she raises her head to look him in the eyes. "I know. It wouldn't be the first time I've been captured. You're just going to have to trust that I know what I'm doing."

"Let me help you," he says, his eyes practically pleading with her. "You don't have to do this alone."

"And just how are you going to do that?"

"Come with us," he says. "We'll be leaving for Poland soon. If you come with us, you and I can detour through Hungary. You wouldn't have to travel alone and risk getting caught. And you'd probably get there faster."

Maria knows she should say no. She knows that this is a bad idea, but it's the look in Steve's eyes that's her undoing. Those beautiful blue eyes that are pleading with her, and she simply doesn't have it in her to deny him. 

"You're sure? You don't mind?"

"You've been a great help," he says, reaching across the table and taking her hand, squeezing it gently. "It's the least I can do."

"I haven't helped that much," she says. "Not so much that you'd risk your life to help me."

"You've helped more than you know," he says. "You're a friend. I like to help my friends."

Maria takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Okay."

"Okay," Steve says, nodding firmly.

Maria only hopes she doesn't end up regretting this.

~o~

The mission to Poland comes together quickly after that. There's a tension in the air that wasn't palpable before, as if everyone knows the stakes are that much bigger this time around. HYDRA's on the defensive now; they have to know what's coming, but Steve and the rest of the Commandos are hoping that by letting some time pass between the Hungary and Poland raids, that HYDRA will have let their guard down. 

It isn't much, but it's what they've got.

Colonel Phillips has returned to London, and Peggy's going to be right behind him, but she's promised to see the men off before she goes. Maria tries not to be jealous, but she knows it's a losing battle. Peggy's not staying to say goodbye to the Commandos, she's staying to say goodbye to Steve. 

"She gets him, you know?"

Maria doesn't turn at Bucky's words, but they do sting.

"Peggy was there when they brought Steve into the program," he says, undaunted by the fact that Maria's sort of ignoring him. "Most dames would have ignored Stevie, but not Peggy. She was the only one to see past his looks to see the man underneath."

"Steve's always been a good man," Maria says, almost absently. "He's loyal to his friends and if you're ever in trouble, he's the first one in line to help. It's easy to respect a man like that."

There's silence for a few beats. Then, "I guess Peggy's not the only one."

Maria smiles, just a quick, private smile. She supposes Steve is lucky to have friends like Bucky. But just the thought of the man wipes the smile from her face. As the time dwindles down, she's more aware than ever of what's coming, and it's breaking her heart that she can't do anything to change it. But, that's why she's leaving: if she doesn't go, she knows she'll be tempted to tell them what she knows, help them change history, and she just doesn't want that responsibility.

"Let's mount up!" Steve calls out into the early morning air.

The men scatter to their assigned trucks. Maria sees Steve and Peggy share a moment before he starts moving between trucks, checking the final preparations. Maria figures this'll be her last chance to talk to Peggy, so she takes advantage, jogging over to the woman before she can disappear inside.

"Peggy," she says, stopping beside the woman.

"Maria," Peggy says, nodding her head. 

Maria knows Peggy's suspicious as to why Maria's going on this mission, but she's hoping the woman won't bring it up. Thankfully, Peggy keeps quiet and waits for whatever Maria needs to say.

"I just wanted to say thanks," Maria says. "For your help."

"I—" Peggy frowns, confused. "You're welcome."

"I admire you, you know," Maria says. "You're a woman in a man's world, and they respect you. They listen to you. You prove, just by being here every day, that women have value and can contribute. It's more than some women get, anyway. I just hope I can live up to your example."

Peggy looks startled for just a moment, but she rallies well. "Just keep up your end of the bargain and they'll treat you the same."

"Yes, ma'am," Maria says, not a hint of sarcasm in her tone. She hesitates, but she knows there's one more thing she needs to say. "I know it's none of my business, but Steve's a good man and he clearly cares about you. Don't shut him out."

Peggy's expression goes blank, but there's a tightness around her eyes as they cut to where Steve is talking to the last of the Commandos to board the trucks. She doesn't say anything, but then Maria doesn't really expect her to.

Finally, Peggy nods at her, and Maria nods back. Nothing more needs to be said. A whistle from somewhere near the trucks draws her attention. Steve's waving her over.

"That's my ride," she says, turning back to Peggy. "Good luck."

"And to you as well," Peggy says.

They share a look, Peggy's unspoken wish for her to watch out for Steve clear in her eyes. Maria nods once again, then turns and jogs back to the trucks.

Steve helps her into the back, and she sits down at the end of the bench, Steve settling in beside her with Bucky on his other side, just as they were more than a week ago, on their way back from Hungary. It surprises Maria that it's only been a week; so much has happened that it seems longer. 

The truck lurches forward and then falls in with the rest of the convoy. The plan is to meet up with a Regular Army unit before they make the push into Germany and Poland, to get the latest intel on their planned route. It's a long, dangerous journey, mostly through hostile territory, so Maria leans back and closes her eyes, resting up for the fight ahead.

~o~

Two days later, they're deep into Germany, traveling on the back roads that'll take them closer to their destination. They'd given consideration to flying over Poland and parachuting into the area around the HYDRA bases, but ultimately they'd decided against it. 

With the skies over Germany hotly contested, Steve had real concerns for the safety of the team. The last thing he'd wanted was to have one of their planes shot down over hostile territory. If anyone survived, they'd be back in a prison camp and most of them had no desire to repeat that experience.

They've traveled south, planning to turn north at the Czech-Hungary border. This is where Steve and Maria plan to break from the group, turning back south towards Budapest and the sanatorium. 

When they stop to make camp and rest, Steve pulls Bucky aside to tell him about their plan. As Maria expected, he's less than thrilled. Steve wants to tell him why, but Maria's wary about getting anyone else involved. The less people that know what really happened to her, the better. 

In the end, Bucky agrees to take the convoy north, continuing on the course they'd agreed upon. He's not happy, clearly frowning at them as they slip away on Steve's motorcycle in the early morning hours, going so far as to make Steve promise to finish his errand quickly so he can head north to rejoin the Commandos before the raid.

As they drive away from the convoy, Maria can't help but feel a pang of sorrow. She's gotten to know these men in the days she's spent with them. They're no longer legends to her, they're good men who're fighting the war that others can't. 

But the sadness she feels isn't only for the men she's leaving behind. It's also for what she knows is coming. For as much as she wants to get back to her own time, she's going to miss Steve— _this_ Steve—the most. She's glad she's gotten this chance to know him, before the ice and the constant sadness that seems to cling to him in the wake of everything he's lost.

In the meantime, she clings to him, pressing herself along his back and tries to enjoy the ride.

~o~

The rain is sheeting down, soaking them both to the bone by the time they reach the outskirts of Budapest. They find a barn on a quiet farm and duck inside to dry off and rest from the long ride. It's quiet inside, no horses or any other animals in sight. They make quick work of clearing the building, grateful to find towels in the bathing stall.

Maria strips out of her wet clothes, draping each piece of her 1940s uniform on the low walls of the stall, drying off the worst of the moisture while Steve looks for some blankets for them to sleep on.

She's bare to the waist, back to the stall's opening when she hears his soft footfalls. She looks over her shoulder, to see Steve standing there, blankets in hand, staring at her. There's no mistaking the look on his face: pure unadulterated want, and it sends a thrill through her. She makes no move to cover up as he lays the blankets down over the hay on the floor.

Finally, when he's got the blankets arranged to his satisfaction, he rises, turning to look at her. She meets his gaze, steady and certain. She wants this, even if it isn't smart to want it. But if this is all of him she'll ever have, at least she'll have the memory.

He moves closer, standing behind her as he ghosts his hands over her shoulders and down her arms, gliding along her skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. His hands slip around her waist, coming to rest on her abdomen as he pulls her closer, pressing kisses to her neck and shoulders.

He leans in, ghosting his lips along her neck and over her ear. "Will you let me make love to you?" he whispers, his breath tickling her ear and raising more goosebumps.

She swallows heavily, nodding because she can't get words past the lump in her throat. He turns her gently and takes her lips in a searing kiss, igniting her whole body at once. If she'd thought Steve was inexperienced before, this kiss would have taught her otherwise, because the man can kiss. His tongue is dancing through her mouth, even as his hands dance across her skin, caressing her and coaxing each and every reaction from her.

She shivers, but not from the cold. Steve steps back, smiling sheepishly at her. He strips out of his uniform shirt and trousers, shucking his boots and socks in one go. Maria's eyes roam over the hard body before her. She'd known the serum gave him a sculpted body, but somehow she wasn't expecting the perfect proportions and washboard abs. She reaches out, fingers skimming over the skin of his chest. It's only slightly cool, and she knows from her research that this is because his metabolism runs high, which means he radiates heat all the time.

She thinks that'd be nice on cold nights, but quickly halts that line of thought. She has no guarantee beyond these few stolen moments, and so she resolves to be in the moment and enjoy what time she has with him.

He wraps his arms around her, lowering her gently down to the blankets on the floor. Her pants and boots join his on the floor, and now it's his turn to look his fill. Maria's never been body-shy, but the intensity of his gaze as he looks her up and down is almost unnerving. She knows she's fit—even though she doesn't go out in the field anymore, she still keeps in shape—but where other women have curves, Maria's body is a honed instrument. But his expression is admiring rather than judgmental, so she lets it go.

The last piece of clothing to go is Steve's boxers, and then he's lowering himself down over her, covering her body with his delicious warmth, miles and miles of skin touching and setting her on fire. She wraps her arms around him, snaking a leg around his to draw him even closer. He grinds down into her even as he takes her in another searing kiss. 

His hands are in constant motion, lips and teeth and tongue drawing a map over her skin as he explores every inch he can reach. He seems to know how to play her body, drawing every reaction out of her as easily as breathing until she can barely think for all the sensations moving through her.

Just when she thinks she can't take anymore, he pushes away from her, kneeling between her legs as his eyes roam over her once more.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispers.

Maria can feel the blush creeping over her skin. "You might be the only man who thinks so."

"Then the men you've known before are idiots," he says. His voice carries a certainty, a conviction that makes her believe him. He leans down and kisses her, deep and long and so passionately that her toes actually curl. When he pulls back, he's got a gleam in his eyes. "I am going to ruin you for every other man. You're never going to be able to do this again without thinking of me."

And then his fingers find her core, and it's like the world explodes in light and color. She's almost paralyzed by the force of her orgasm, but before she can even think about returning the favor, Steve's pulling her into his lap and pushing inside her, sending aftershocks through her body as his hips snap into hers.

He drags her up and into his arms, using his superior strength to hold her tight as his hips drive up into her, hitting just the right spot every time as another orgasm builds under her skin. All she can do is cling to his shoulders, wind her legs around him and hold on. Steve kisses along her jaw, nibbling on her earlobe before pressing kisses down her neck as he continues to piston into her.

His lips find her collar bone, and suddenly he's biting down, marking her skin and punching her orgasm out of her with even more force than the last one. She goes limp in his arms as he bears her down into the blankets again. A few short thrusts later and he's coming, the pulsing of his cock deep within her sending rippling waves of pleasure through her whole body.

~o~

It takes several long moments for Steve to gather enough energy to roll away, and when he does, she follows him, winding up practically draped over his chest as he lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

"At the risk of sounding crass," Maria says, some minutes later when she's managed to pull herself together after two of the best orgasms of her life, "where the hell did you learn to do that?"

Steve's chest rumbles under her, his laugh dry and amused. "I was on a USO tour selling War Bonds with a cast of two men and fifty women. There may have been... shenanigans, backstage."

It's Maria's turn to laugh. She buries her face in his chest as he runs a clumsy hand over her hair. Oddly, it's nice to know she's somehow dented his composure, even a little.

"Thank God for shenanigans, then," she says, when she's pulled herself back under control.

Steve's only reply is a soft hum as he presses a kiss into her hair. He's ghosting his fingers over her skin, drawing idle patterns as they listen to the rain patter on the roof. It's peaceful, quiet, as if the war is far away instead of right outside the door.

Maria knows they should be sleeping. They'll have to get moving in just a few hours if they want to get to the sanatorium before dawn. But right at this moment, none of that matters. She's got a very naked Steve Rogers beside her, and hours to go until they have to leave. She's not wasting even one minute sleeping when she could be doing other, more pleasurable things with him.

She pushes up, straddling his hips. Bracing her hands on either side of his head, she leans down, a wicked grin forming on her lips.

"My turn," she says.

She's always wondered what Steve's refractory period is like. Time to find out.

~o~

Maria and Steve dress quietly in the pre-dawn half-light. Their time together is dwindling, and although she knows that she’ll see him again, she’s keenly aware that it won’t ever be like this again: just the two of them in a world of their own making. But Maria has never been one to duck responsibilities in order to live in a fantasy, and she doesn’t plan to start now.

She pulls on her tactical uniform, piece by piece, and it’s as if she’s pulling herself back together—shedding the guise of Maria Hennessy and putting Maria Hill back on—as she goes, until at last, she’s back in familiar clothing and her hair is pulled back into her usual bun.

“Haven’t seen that in a while,” Steve comments behind her. She turns, brow drawn down in confusion. He waves a hand at her. “The clothes. You really are from another place and time.”

She looks at him, in his Captain America uniform, leather jacket obscuring most of the red-white-and-blue fanfare. There’ll come a time, in the not-too-distant future, when he’ll be the one out of place and time, but she doesn’t say it. There’s a lot she doesn’t say, a lot she wants to say but she knows she can’t. She’s already too afraid of the damage she’s done just by being here with him—with all of them. 

But God help her, she can’t regret any of it.

“You okay?” he asks, moving closer.

She looks down at her hands, too afraid of what he’ll see in her eyes if she looks at him, but it’s like he’s reading her mind. He tucks a knuckle under her chin and silently urges her to look at him. She can feel the tears pooling in her eyes. Maria Hill cries for nothing and no one, but here and now she’d cry a river if it would change what’s going to happen, for her and for him.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling her to him.

She goes willingly, allowing him to fold her into his arms, leaning into his strength and taking what comfort she can. She can’t hide the truth from herself any longer, and at this point, she doesn’t want to. Somehow, despite her best efforts, she’s fallen in love with Steve Rogers. And while she knows she’s going to see him again, she also knows she has no guarantee that he feels the same—now or in the future.

She wraps her arms around him, soaking in the heat pouring off him, trying to commit these last few minutes to memory in case everything has changed when she returns to her own time. Long minutes tick by, and she knows they need to get moving, but she’s loath to leave this barn and Steve’s arms.

“I’ll never forget you, Maria,” Steve says into the quiet. “I promise you that.”

She pulls back, looking up into his eyes. “Go on with your life, Steve. Go out on a date with Peggy. Promise me that you’ll keep living. That’s all I need.”

“I promise,” he says. He dips his head, kissing her sweet and gentle, so unlike the kisses from last night and yet still full of passion and longing.

When he pulls back, he caresses her cheek, looking deep into her eyes as if he’s trying to memorize her just as she’d tried to memorize him a few minutes ago. He lets his hand drop to her shoulder, pressing his thumb into the mark on her collar bone, a not-so-subtle reminder. _Don't forget me, either._

As if she could.

Finally, he steps back, putting distance between them for the final time.

“Let’s go.”

~o~

The entrance they use to return to the facility is the same one the strike team used back in her own time. She finds it ironic that she may have been the one to show him where it is, knowledge he uses in the planning of the mission that sends her to 1945.

They’d argued briefly once they’d reached the entrance, about whether or not he should accompany her inside or just leave. He risks capture going inside, and Maria knows they can’t risk that, but ultimately Steve had reminded her that he’d assaulted a HYDRA facility all by himself and come out of it unscathed. She couldn’t argue that, and so they entered the passageway together, Steve shadowing Maria down darkened corridors with just a weak flashlight to guide them.

As it turns out, they don’t have to worry about capture; it seems as though HYDRA has abandoned the facility. The sanatorium above still appears to be functioning normally, but the hidden rooms in the sub-basement are empty, nothing left but dust in the corners and the occasional paper dropped in someone’s haste to get out.

Maria finally finds the room she’s looking for. She reaches for the doorknob but his hand grasps hers before she can turn it. She looks up into his eyes, watching the conflicting emotions chasing across his face. She knows exactly how he feels, because she’s feeling it too. But where she knows that—if all goes according to plan—she’ll be seeing him in a few minutes time, she knows he doesn’t have that assurance.

For one foolish instant, she wants to tell him everything, about how he lays in the ice for seventy years and about how they meet—or at least, how she meets him—for the first time. But she holds her tongue. It won’t do any good and might do more harm, not that she thinks he’d make a different choice, even if he did know. Still, she keeps quiet, allowing the moment to spin out.

When she thinks she can’t wait any longer, she moves her hand, wrapping it around Steve’s. “I know,” she says, squeezing once. “Just, be careful out there. I need to believe you’ll make it to that date with Peggy one day.”

Steve smiles softly at her. “I’ll be careful. We’ll have a drink in your honor, when this is all over.”

She smiles tremulously at him, squeezing his hand once more before she turns and opens the door. When she turns around on the other side, she sees him standing there, shield slung over his back, blonde hair glinting in the weak light from the overheads. His blue eyes are looking right through her, to her very soul, but instead of scaring her, it warms her to the bone.

She’s ruined for every other man in the world now, past or present, just like he'd said, and she knows it. All she can hope for is that he remembers her when she returns to her own time.

She nods at him once, then closes the door. It takes a few minutes of deep breaths for her to even want to move, much less get the device set up so she can go back where she belongs. She doesn’t hear footsteps, so she has to believe he’s still out there, waiting for some sign that she’s gone.

It breaks her heart, but she turns away from the door and pulls the device out of the bag. She sets it on the table and stares at it for a long minute. She doesn’t even have a guarantee that it’ll work. It could malfunction somehow, sending her to the wrong time or just leave her hanging in the ether in between and she’d never make it home. She could just grab it and go back outside, to where Steve is almost certainly waiting for her, instead of heading for an uncertain fate with a device she really doesn’t understand.

But she’s not that person. She doesn’t belong here and she never will. So, she reaches out and taps the outermost ring, setting it spinning. The inner rings begin to spin in counterpoint to the one she’s set in motion, the whole thing becoming a familiar blur. The stone in the center starts glowing, just as it did before, the light growing brighter as the minutes tick by.

Maria wonders if maybe she’s done something wrong, or if the device just doesn’t have enough power because she doesn’t remember it taking this long to build up a charge the last time. But then, suddenly, the room is filled with bright, white light, and the same shock wave as before knocks her down.

She must lose consciousness, because she comes to long minutes later in the same room as before, with one notable difference: the dead body, right where she left it. She flops back on the concrete floor, breathing a sigh of relief, unable to keep the smile off her face. 

It worked! She can’t believe it really worked!

She should be back in her own time, and it’s that thought that propels her up off the cold floor. The canvas bag is still slung around her shoulder, her 1940s uniform tucked inside to cushion the device, but there’s also a briefcase on the table with a foam cutout that matches the silhouette of the device perfectly. She settles the device into its custom-made case and closes the lid.

Taking a deep breath, Maria turns for the door and reaches for the knob, pulling the door open—

.


End file.
